Gatsby Holmes Moriarty
by Maxy93
Summary: Sherlock has a little sister, and she's married to James Moriarty. She and Moriarty are having a child, but Holmes has vowed to stop the man who threatens the saftey of the world, no matter what the cost. Starts before first film and goes past A Game of Shadows. Rating to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! A few things really quick. My fist posted attempt at a Sherlock Holmes story. So please read and let me know what you think about it. If I get good feedback I will continue on, even if it's just one person.

**A few things:** I absolutely love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's original works with Sherlock Holmes. I have read and own all of his works. (Favorite being **_The Hound __of the__ Baskervilles_**.) However, I love Robert Downey Jr. as Holmes. The way he looks just makes Holmes a more real character, so this Sherlock will be based of RDJ instead of Doyle's description. The same goes for Jude Law as Watson. (even though I think Edward Hardwicke was an amazing Dr. Watson along with Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes.) Bur something about RDJ's looks helped make Holmes seem real and gave him the "fragility" I like to associate with him.

**So**, please read, enjoy, and review!

* * *

**Holmes' PoV**

Matrimony, that very word irks my brain. What was the point of it all? I ponder as I sit stiff and still next to my Boswell as my brother Mycroft walked our little sister Gatsby down the aisle. I was five years Gatsby's senior and by far her favorite brother. Mycroft was twelve when Gatsby was born and was already on his own when our parents died when she was four. But yet Mycroft was the one "giving her away" as the expression ran. Giving her away alright, Mycroft was "giving" her to James Moriarty. He was seven years her senior, but Gatsby did not care. She had met him while working under the college's librarian. They had a year and a half long courtship, and a six month and two day long engagement. Certainly long enough to figure out the odd quirks and peeves of each other, but something about this match I just did not like. Maybe it had to do with the recent infatuation of my colleague beside me with one of our former clients, but I wasn't totally convinced that was why.

My sister looked very pretty in Mother's wedding gown, even though it was a size to large for her, but Gatsby was always tiny. Mycroft finally got her to the waiting hand of Moriarty and now it was ceremony time. I knew it would pass fairly quickly; Gatsby was not one for showiness, so it was over in ten minutes, the prayer being the longest part. There would be no reception, the professor had a speaking engagement in Paris the day after next, and he and Gatsby had to catch a train that departed and two this afternoon. They kiss and we are up and out the door.

Outside I stand still once I have put my hat on to block the sun. A few minutes later my sister and her husband emerge from the church. She is all smiles, receiving hugs and kisses from her friends and coworkers; she stops briefly and lets go of Moriarty's hand to give Mycroft a hug. He whispers in her ear, and judging by the sad smile on her face, it had to of held some mention of our deceased parents. The days counting up to this wedding had forced many of her buried feelings regarding our parents to the surface. She kissed his cheek and continued walking along the people. Slowly they come to Watson and I, she gives a hug to Watson and wishes him the best of luck in looking after me alone now. He simply laughs and wishes her luck. I breath in through my nose as she turns her light grey eyes to me.

"I'm happy you came today, dear brother." She says, her voice soft and emotional.

"Why would I not be here?" I ask stuffy.

"I know how you detest weddings."

"It is not weddings, it is what weddings cause."

"All the same," she steps close and takes hold of my hands, "thank you." I glance down at her and give her a smirk before I pull her into a full hug.

"You are the only sister I have, I would move the world to keep you happy." I whisper low in her ear. She holds me tighter a few seconds then pulls back. I wipe a tear from her cheek as she steps away. I stare after her as she leaves, sending all my emotional thoughts with her. I need to focus; Watson and I have a case tonight.

* * *

It has been a week since my sister married and she and her husband are stopping by today to get the rest of her things from her old room at Baker Street. She better take her feline with her. I sit, plucking my violin as Watson reads of paper beside me. "What time did she say she'd be here again old boy?" he asks.

"She said noon, but she has never been a punctual one."

"No, but her husband is. What do you think of him?"

"He's intelligent, a good intellectual match for her, but as for the rest I remain unconvinced."

"And why is that dear brother?" I glance at the door and see my sister and husband standing in the doorway. Gatsby has a smile on her face.

"No reason at all." I say as I set my violin on the table and drink from my glass.

"Well, no matter. James and I are going to the Royal this evening; would you care to join us?"

"No." I say flat out. "Watson and I have a case.

"Is it the same one you were working on during my wedding?"

"Yes, but during your wedding I had just gotten the case, tonight, we are closing it. I have located where the ceremony will take place, and I," a look from Watson has me rephrasing my words, "We, are going to stop him."

"Well, just be safe and remember your revolver." She says with a smile as she untangles her arm from Moriarty's and turns towards the stairs. "I'll be down in a few minutes James. Watson, would you mind helping? I would ask Sherlock, but we both know what he would say." Watson smirks and follows her up the stairs, leaving me alone with my new brother-in-law.

"Mr. Holmes, your sister tells me much of your skill, she makes you sound more gifted than even the papers. Is all they say true?" he asks, a queer sort of smile on his face. I stare at him; it is obvious he's a professor. The side of his right hand is calloused from hours pressed against a blackboard, a thick smell of chalk around him, a tiny indention of chalk on his middle finger… "Mr. Holmes?" I blink and smile towards him.

"Please, sit. Now, what all has my dear sister told you?"

"Various little things, stories of her childhood, how she never got away with anything, a few of the cases she accompanied you on, things like that."

"Well, I do dabble from time to time in various cases, but as for my sister's childhood, that was more of Mycroft's doing than my own."

"The elder Holmes confuses me most, Gatsby says he is even more gifted than you, yet he simply works for the government. Couldn't his skills be more useful outside meaningless politics?"

"Mycroft is happy with his life, and I am happy with his life as well. We each keep to his and own. Do you have siblings?"

"Yes, I do. I have-,"

"An older brother, if I am not mistaken." I interrupt him. Showing him first hand my "gift" as he put it.

"Yes, how did you?"

"When you spoke of my older brother, you looked off to the side, where most people look when recalling a person or fact."

"Why did you ask, if you already knew?"

"Habit, ask what you think you already know, so you will for sure know of it."

There it was again, the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. He always seemed to get it when I was describing something or explaining why I knew something. This Professor was smarter than he was trying to seem. There was something there, lurking just behind his stone eyes. But I didn't have enough to try to figure out what it may be. The steps of my sister and Watson on the stairs forced our stare down to end just as they walked into the sitting room. "I only have one bag James, it's by the door." Moriarty stood and walked over to her.

"Just one bag darling? Surprising."

"I kind of made everything fit in the bag, so it's rather heavy."

"I assure you, I will have no trouble." He says as he kisses the back of her hand and Watson sits back down. "Say goodbye to your brother dear, we need to get going." Gatsby nods and walks over to me.

"You really should consider meeting us for dinner tonight; we'll be there at seven-thirty." She kisses my cheek and walks over to her husband and out the door they go.

* * *

Three Months Later

**Gatsby's PoV**

"Have you seen this mornings paper James?" I ask as I walk into the kitchen.

"Yes, it's in the sitting room. Your brother is mentioned on page one." He says standing up to kiss me as I sit down beside him. "How are you feeling this morning, still nauseous?"

"Yes, just a bit. I think I'm catching the flu that's going around work."

"I do hope not, I dislike you being sick." He says as he hands me a slice of toast.

"So do I, and no thank you. I am not hungry."

"You need to eat Gatsby. Just a few bites of this, please?"

"Really James, I don't think I could keep it down." I say, taking a sip of water and already feeling my stomach twist.

"I think we should go take you to a doctor." He says, closing the book he was reading before I came in.

"No, really James, it's not a big-,"

"You have been sick the past month and a half, I would feel better if you would."

"Under one condition." I say with a sly smile.

"What would that be?"

"You play hooky and come with me." I say, and a smile crosses my face when he nods and leans over and kisses me.

"Shall we go call on Dr. Watson?"

"Oh, do we have to go see him? If Sherlock even thinks I'm sick he'll refuse to let me even leave. He's very hypocritical in that regard."

"Just being a good brother. Go dress and we'll go." I smile and head back up the stairs.

A short walk to Baker Street later, James and I stop suddenly when we hear a few gun shots sound from the second floor of 221B. "He must be in a mood." I comment as we resume our walk to the door. I don't bother knocking, knowing everyone was probably upstairs. We end up meeting Mrs. Hudson and an elderly gentleman on the middle of the staircase.

"Don't go up there, he's a madman!" the gentleman states as he flusters about and grabs his jacket and leaves.

"Oh dear." Mrs. Hudson fusses, but then she turns and smiles. "Mrs. Moriarty, how wonderful it is to see you dear."

"Nice to see you too, what has my brother done now?"

"Oh, he is insufferable, shooting his gun at all hours, not eating, catching the curtains on fire, you name it." I smiled at the old landlady, she reminded me of Sherlock and I's childhood nanny Amelia, we drove her to drastic measures of punishment all the time. One time, when I was six, Sherlock and I had stolen Mycroft's matches and we caught all the rose bushes on fire. Neither one of us could sit down for a week.

"I'm so sorry, is Watson about?"

"The Doctor is seeing to the lunatic!" she said, tossing her hands in the air.

"Okay, I'll talk with you before I leave." I say, going up the stairs.

"I have to bring the ruffian tea, so I'll be up in a few minutes." I smile and lead James up the seventeen steps to the main landing; I can hear my brother screaming as Watson floods the room with sunlight.

"Is the doctor killing your brother?" James asks with an odd smile.

"No, Sherlock just thinks so. Wait here, have a seat, I'll be back." I release his hand and go into my brother's messy and smelly room.

"-Lord Radford likes fast women and slow ponies." Finishes Sherlock as I walk in the room.

"Attractive, both the smell and the conversation I walk in on."

"Nobody asked you to come in did they sister?" he replies snidely, before looking back down at the paper. "Watson, I see you're the attending physician at Blackwood's hanging."

"Is that this morning's paper?"

"It is, and yes Holmes, it was our last case together and I wanted to see it through to the end."

"Last case, what?" I ask, shocked to hear such a thing.

"Yes, I suppose someone didn't tell you, Mary and I are engaged." A smile breaks over my face and I embrace him.

"Congratulations Watson, I'm so happy for you." over his shoulder I see my brother roll his eyes, and then I realize what Watson's departure will do to him. We are all interrupted when we hear a knock on the door and Mrs. Hudson walks in.

"There is only one case, Watson, that intrigues me at the moment, the curious case of Mrs. Hudson, the absentee landlady. I've been studying her comings and going and they appear most sinister"

"Tea, Mr. Holmes." She says as she places the tray on the table.

"Is it poisoned, nanny?"

"There's enough of that in you already." She replies as she picks up an old try full of old looking food.

"Don't touch! Everything is in its rightful place, as per usual, nanny." He says, glaring at the woman behind her back as she walks away. She glances down at the floor and says,

"Oh he's killed the dog, again." And out the door she walks. Watson goes over to poor Gladstone.

"What have you don't to Gladstone now?!"

"I was simply testing a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind." I see Watson sigh, realizing the dog was in no danger of dying this time; he slowly stands and faces my odd brother.

"Holmes, as you doctor-,"

"He'll be as right as a trivet in no time."

"As your friend, you've been in this room for two weeks; I insist you have to get out."

"There is nothing of interest for me out there on earth at all."

"Then you're free this evening?"

"Absolutely."

"Dinner?"

"Wonderful."

"The Royal?"

"My favorite."

"Mary's coming." He says with a very triumphant look on his face.

"Not available." Holmes counters quickly.

"You're meeting her Holmes!" Watson snaps. I shake my head and exit the room before a possible fight breaks out.

"What is going on in there?" James asks, staring intently at the door.

"My brother is having issues, but Watson should be here soon."

"-wear a jacket!" he says, closing the door hard behind him.

"Enjoying him Watson?" I ask with a smile.

"Has he always been this way?"

"Worse, ask Mycroft about him sometime."

"What are you doing here anyways?"

"Nothing, just felt like-,"

"My wife needs a check-up." James rats me out.

"Ah, I see. Being the typical Holmes and refusing to believe you could be ill. I have no one scheduled for an hour or so, come with me." He motioned and we followed him into his practice rooms.

"I must say, you move fast, congratulations Gatsby, you're going to be having a baby in about seven months." Watson says with a smile. The world around me seemed to stop and I just stared at him.

"What?"

"You're having a baby, possibly two considering how big you already are."

"Two? No, no I can't be- I mean, a baby?" I can't seem to wrap my mind around this.

"I'm not saying twins is a for sure thing, it's just a possibility right now. I'll be able to tell you more in a few months." I just nod and stare at the dark wooden door. "Look, why don't you two go home, and then come by in a week or so and I can give you a better check up. How does that sound?" I just nod and stand from the table. I'm on auto pilot as James helps me put on the coat and he wraps and arm around me and leads me out the door and back to our house five blocks away.

"Darling, go sit down, I'll get some tea, and we can talk." James says as he pulls my coat from my shoulders and gently pushes me towards the sitting room. I do what he says and sit on the love seat by the window. I press my hand against my stomach and even I can't deny how tighter my clothes are regardless of my horrid eat habits as of late. I can't even fathom this though. James and I are not ready to be parents, we had both agreed to wait a year before trying. We had taken every precaution against this, but now I suppose it was all for naught. My monthlies had always been jumbled, so I paid them no mind anymore, I wish I had. I drop my head against my hands and sigh.

I hear him walk into the room and set down the tray, then he sits next to me and wraps an arm around me. "There, there. It will all work out Gatsby, I assure you."

"I'm sorry James, I know that you don't want this-,"

"Who said anything about not wanting this? I'm thrilled."

"But, we agreed-,"

"That doesn't matter now does it? Darling, it takes two, you are not the only person at fault for this, but it doesn't matter. I'm very happy for us. Yes, it has taken us by surprise, but we can adjust." He says as he kisses my cheek, his new beard tickling my face as he did so.

"I don't like your bread." I say with a smile.

"Too bad, I don't like your not eating."

"I'm not hungry-,"

"I don't care, you have my offspring to think of now, so lets get some food in you. I, unfortunately have a few matters I have to deal with today." He says, handing me a bit of toast.

"A few matters? You said you were free all day?" I ask, feeling a little hurt.

"I will only be gone a short while, I must catch this client before she skips town."

"She? What she?"

"A free lance agent if you will. Do not fret dear, my heart is taken, as is hers." He says as he kisses me again then stands up. "Eat up, I should be back before four." I sigh and watch him leave. I drop the untouched toast back on the plate and lean back against the seat. I feel drowsy and I soon fall asleep right on the sitting room love seat.


	2. Chapter 2

New Chapter!

**Very special thanks to: **Kstar101 for the review!

**Special thanks to: **Elyon Cedar, Kstar101, and Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape for favoriteing the story. And to Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape for following it as well.

**Note:** As everyone knows, Moriarty isn't in the first movie very much, so I'm kinda improvising. Also, this pregnancy is going to be important later on with this story. I cannot wait till I get to _A Game of Shadows_because that's where the real fun is going to start.

Please read, review, and enjoy

* * *

**Gatsby's PoV**

I woke up when I heard the front door close. I stretched my sore limbs and stood from the love seat. Standing in the doorway I could hear someone in the back room, off the pantry door, so I decided to see who it was, it's almost dark outside, I couldn't have been asleep too long, so James was probably no back. I creep around the corner and I ease my head around the side of the door and my eyes grow wide as I see James messing with some odd device on his forearm, it held a small gun. Why did he need a gun? I watch as he simply jerks his arm and the device sends the gun forwards, only to have him move his arms again and have the gun move back. Just the sigh sends chills down my spine and I quickly move from the door way back to the main hall.

My mind is buzzing with questions, why does he have that thing? Why did he even need it? Most important, why did he hide it at the back of the house in a room we never use? I shake my head and walk up the stairs towards the bedroom. I close the door behind me and drop myself onto the bed. I snuggle my head into the fluffy pillow and try to clear my mind. "It's not good for our child when you sleep on your stomach, you're squishing the poor thing." I shot my gaze towards the door, I see James standing there with a smile on his face.

"Sorry, habit." I say as I roll onto my side as he walks in the room and sits down on the bed.

"You were spying on me Gatsby." He says a matter of factly.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Just now, when I was in the back room of the pantry." He says, twitching his wrist and the gun popping out of his sleeve. "Do you like my contraption?" he asks, holding it close to my face.

"I-I heard a noise and-,"

"I don't think you should mention this to anyone darling. Don't want people to get the wrong conclusion of me do we?" I just shake my head and he flicks his wrist again and the gun snaps from view, but I can't help but keep an eye glued on where it is as James wraps his other arm around me. "I don't have to it scare you, it's for protection. Even your brother will agree with me. The streets are dangerous these days, and since your expecting, it is even more important for me to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

I just nodded and set my head against his shoulder.

"We have to tell my brothers."

"I know, but let's give them a few days before we do, after all the Doctor is going to be at an execution, and your brother is probably going as well."  
"We could tell Mycroft tomorrow, it's a Tuesday, he's just sitting at home."

"A real man of habit you say?"

"I can tell you what he's doing on any given day at any given time. He has had the same routine since I was little; just change the locations and a few of the activities."

"Okay, we can go see him tomorrow, but it's late. I have class tomorrow."

"I have work tomorrow too James." I remind him as I stand to change, but he grabs my hand and pulls be back down.

"No, you're not going back to work, you have to take better care of yourself, and lifting heavy stacks of books is not what I have in mod for you." he says, with a very serious look in his eyes, but I didn't care, who was he to boss me around like that.

"I'm going back to work James, I don't have to be any more careful that normal right now, give me a few months then yes, I'll take some time off, but I am, under no circumstances, quitting my job."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not and you can't force me." Then I was jerked back harder than before and planted firmly on my back as he loomed above me.

"You are not going back to work, do you understand me?" I just jerkily nod my head, fear coursing through my blood as I look into his cold eyes.

After I nod, a smile breaks across his features. "There, not was that so hard?" he says as he gently pulls me into a sitting position and rubs my bruised wrist from his hold. "You'll see dear, not working will have its advantages. Give you more time here at home, get the place organized a bit better." Then he looks down at my wrist. "I'm sorry about this, I didn't realize how tight I was holding you." his voice not wavering from the tone of condescension. Then he rubbed his hand over my belly. "We both have things to work on before this little one arrives." Then he stands up and heads to the door. "I'll bring you some water and a bit of toast, I saw you didn't eat like I told you to earlier, so I will have to make sure you do. You change and I'll be back." And with that, he was out the door. I sat still until I heard his steps descend the stairs.

"Ahh." I breathe out as I plant a hand over my mouth to stop the tears. I had never felt so scared in my life. I feel my whole body shake as I try to keep calm. I quickly stand to change into my night-clothes. But a glimpse at my wrist stops me short. Four finger marks stand out drastically from my pale skin, even in the dim light from the bedside lamp. I'm afraid of what I would see if it was daylight. I change and crawl back in bed, rubbing the sore skin and trying to calm down. _He just got mad_ I think to myself. _I challenged him and he did what any man would do. I should know better than to provoke him. _I snap from my thoughts when I hear him outside the door. I wipe a single tear from my eye just as he walks in the door.

James carries the tray in and sets it down on his bed-side table. I pull the covers over me as he changes out of his day clothes to his night clothes. He then slides onto the bed beside me. He kisses my forehead then hands me a glass of water. I take a sip, wanting to drink the whole glass, but he takes it from me. "Not so much, it'll make you sick, love. Here," he hands me a half piece of toast. "eat this, and I'll give you another drink."

"Bargaining water for food?" I ask as I take the toast and take a small bite from the corner.

"Only when my wife is being stubborn." He replies with a smile.

"Family trait." I say, taking another small bite.

I don't know how long it took, but I ended up eating two slices for toast and two glasses of water before my stomach was churning and he was satisfied that I had consumed something. I was laying on my back, breathing deep and slow, trying to get my insides to stop moving around while James gently rubs circles on my belly. "Do you know there is a little bump here?" he asks, looking up at me. I sit up a bit, closing my eyes at the sensations.

"I am? Where?" he takes my hand and places it on the lower half of my stomach and gently pushes my hand down. I feel it, it's small, barley noticeable, but it's there. "Oh my goodness! I don't believe it." I feel my eyes water and I rub the bump. "Hi babies." I blink my tears back and I have to lay back down due to the flips in my stomach. The bread and water refusing to settle as James goes back rubbing my stomach.

"Close your eyes and sleep." He says and I try to do what he says, but it's hard to when it feels like a boxing match in your gut. Closing my eyes tight and just relaxing my whole body, I end up falling into a light, uneasy slumber.

Some time later, maybe an hour, I woke with a start and felt something rise up in my throat. I quickly jumped out of bed and made it to the bathroom just as the toast and water reappeared. I felt tears rush to my eyes and my arms shook under my slight weight as I held myself up. there was a slight break just as I felt my hair pulled back and tucked under my nightdress. Then a pair of familiar hands rubbing up and down my back. "Feeling better?" he asked, reaching over and wetting a rag in the sink.

"Not real-," back over the loo I went, but all it was now was painful dry heaves and pain in my abdomen. I let out a cry as I leaned away from the contaminated toilet. I leaned my sore body against the wall and spit into a cup James handed me. He flushed the toilet and ran the cool rag over my feverish face. "I think I'm done." I say as I look at his concerned face.

"Let's sit here for a little bit, just to be safe." He says as he hands me a new glass with some water in it, I drink it and swish it around in my mouth before spitting it in the dirty cup. He gently guides me to lean against his chest as my breathing returns to normal and my insides stop doing back-flips. I set the offending cup by the loo and take a small sip from the water before setting it aside too. I rest my head back as he places the cool cloth to my forehead and rubs my cold arms. I close my eyes and enjoy the touch and the break from the nausea that had been my companion all night.

* * *

**James' PoV**

I feel Gatsby's weight fall more against me and I know she is now asleep. I sigh and stand up before scooping her into my arms and carrying her back to bed. I tuck the blankets back around her and kiss her cheek before returning to the bathroom. I dump the horrid smelling glass in the toilet and drop the glass on the floor, then picking up the glass with water on it, I run it under some hot water then fill it with cold water to take back in the bedroom, incase she needed it again. I then clean the toilet as best as I could. While she may not have a virus to cause this, the though of it not being cleaned until tomorrow is an unpleasant one.

The cause of this, I smile to myself, I was the cause of it. She was having my child. It was wonderful really. Gatsby was a sibling to two of the most intelligent men on this earth, and the child had it coming more directly from me as well. The child was going to be brilliant, no question about it. Gatsby was smart yes, but nowhere near the level of her siblings. I walked back into the bedroom and got back in bed. I gently took her bruised wrist in my hand and kissed the dark marking. I felt bad about what I had done to her. Gatsby was beautiful in everyway. Pale skin, dark hair, beautiful eyes, but she had the will of a donkey and the heart of a lion. She wasn't afraid to defy anyone and put up a fight if she felt the need. Good traits in their own right, but not what I wanted in a wife. But, one must take the good with the bad. I loved my wife, I truly did, and I couldn't wait till our child, possibly children arrived.

The morning came and I got out of bed. I turned by head and saw my wife sleeping soundly beside me. I kiss her forehead, get dressed and go downstairs. I tell our maid about the mess in the bathroom, warning her to be quiet. "Also, if you finish your regular chores and cook a light breakfast, you may have the rest of the day off."

"Yes sir, thank you sir." She says before shuffling away. I drink the last bit of my coffee and eat the last of my eggs before grabbing my coat and walking out the door. I get in a carriage and go to the college.

My office is really a mess, but I like it this way, the mess has order, ask me where anything was and I could tell you. I set my bag on my desk when I hear a knock on my door. "Come in." I say, pulling off my coat, the door opens and in walks an old friend of mine. "Colonel Moran, what brings you to me today?" I ask the best shot in London.

"Just passing by Professor. When is Ms. Adler confronting your brother-in-law about Reordan?"

"Today, I'll be picking her up around ten; I'm canceling my classes for most of the day. Are you going to be there for his hanging?"

"No, I have a job to do today."

"You do keep busy."

"How's your wife?"

"Gatsby is good, a wonderful wife really."

"Plus she's a link to Holmes, one even easier to reach than the Doctor, should it come to that."

"If it does get to that point, I won't be going after her for a little while."

"Why is that?"

"She is having my child. I don't want to put my child's life in jeopardy just to hurt an annoyance. That is why I tend to get closer to the Doctor. Gatsby's pregnancy, though poorly timed, is the perfect tool for just that. Who are you going after today?"

"The Steel Magnate in America. He's in London on business. Saves me a trip across the ocean."

"Time for him already?"

"Yes it-," the clock chimes, interrupting him.

"I'm sorry to cut you off Colonel, but I have a class in five minutes." I say standing and retrieving my book for the class and the case.

"Not at all, have a good class." We walk out the door, and go opposite directions in the hallway.

Three classes and a short trip to my office later, I am in a carriage, sitting across from Ms. Adler. I get a sort of satisfaction knowing I have this largely known criminal on edge. The carriage slows to a stop. "I'll be waiting Ms. Adler, don't let a thought of crossing me enter your head." She just nods and exits. I pull my hat lower on my head and scoot further back into the shadow of the seat. I am not a fan of waiting, but it must be done. All my following of Blackwood are not going to be for nothing. I will know what that man was working on before he was interrupted by my meddling brother-in-law.

About fifteen minutes later the door opens and she gets back inside and sits down. "He'll do it." She says a new bouquet of flowers in her hand.

"Well done Ms. Adler, Reordan is the key to what Blackwood was working on." With that, the carriage starts to move, only to be stopped by something running into the side of it. I hear my driver yelling at whatever it was, and then the fool decides to stick his filthy head through the window, muttering nonsense. Loosing my patience, I twitch my wrist, my gun sliding out of my sleeve and smoothly into my hand. I aim it right at his face.

"God save the queen!" and he backs up with a bow as we pull away. We stop and let Adler out about a mile up the road, and I head home.

Stepping through the door I see the maid gathering her belongings. "Susan, how is my wife?" I ask, hanging my hat and coat on the stand.

"I went up there at nine with the tray; she woke up and took it from me. I went back up there around eleven and she was sleeping. I haven't heard anything moving up there, sir."

"Did she eat?"

"No sir, the tray was untouched."

"Okay, thank you Susan, you may go now."

"Thank you sir, Good day sir." And out the door she goes. I walk up the stairs to my bedroom.

I open the door and when I do not see Gatsby in the bed I walk in and go to the bathroom where I find her curled up on the floor, I gasped and quickly went to her, gently shaking her and feeling for a pulse. Feeling it strong against my fingers I roll her to her side, having read a long time back that fainting occurred more frequently when expecting, and that laying on the side helped the blood flow easier and quicker. A few minutes later I felt her stir under my hand that I had placed on her hip. "Huh, James?" she asks, blinking her eyes quickly and holding her head.

"It's okay; you passed out in the bathroom. Do you know what time you got up?" I ask, helping her sit up, she cringed and press her bruised wrist to her head.

"Not sure, but it wasn't too ago, Susan just finished cleaning in here I think." I nod and stand up before pulling her into my arms. "James, I can walk."

"No, you're not walking. I'm taking you to the doctor." I say as I set her on the bed. She protests as I start looking through her clothes for a comfortable dress for her.

"No, really. It was just one spell, I'm sure I'll be okay."

"I don't care if it was just one. There are several causes for fainting, plus we also need to figure out what to do with your eating problem. It's not health for you to be tossing up whatever you eat." I respond as I pull out a dress for her. "Now, not another word about it. You are going." I say as I help her get dressed as well.

A few minutes later we were walking up the steps of 221b. Gatsby doesn't knock before she goes in, she's annoyed that I'm making her see Dr. Watson, but he is one of the best in London, plus a friend of hers. She's about four steps ahead of me as she turns and goes up the stairs, but her steps slow and she hold her head again. I immediately go her side. "Darling?"

"I'm okay, just a bit dizzy." She says as she continues the walk up the stairs. But once she saw the doctor's rooms were empty she sighs and falls onto a couch. "They're downstairs, could you please go get them. I don't want to go down those steps just to come back up them." She said, ducking her head between her knees, taking deep breaths. I nod and head back down the seventeen steps and head to the sitting room.

I walk in and knock on the wall, having both the Doctor and Holmes turn to look at me, the Doctor speaks first. "Professor Moriarty, what an unexpected surprise, please sit." He says, motioning to an empty chair.

"I would love to Doctor, but this is not a social visit. Gatsby is in need of your assistance." The Doctor simply stood up, but Holmes shot up from his seat and was heading up the stairs before Dr. Watson grabbed his cane.

* * *

**Gatsby's PoV**

I turn to the steps when I hear thunderous, fast steps on them, and I am not surprised to see my brother coming up them. He actually doesn't look too bad, but he does have a bit of dirt or soot on his face, as well as a red indention on the bridge of his nose. "Been wearing your false nose again?"

"Why do you need to see Watson? Are you sick?" he asks, coming over to me and pressing his wrist to my forehead.

"No, I'm not si-,"

"What has happened to your wrist?!" he proclaims as he holds the marked skin close to his eyes. "Who did this? You will tell me?" he asks, I can almost feel the anger building in him.

"Sherlock, calm down. It's not a big deal." He shakes he head and holds my wrist in my face, something he always did when I was little and got hurt. he always showed me my injury, as if I didn't already know about it, and flies off the handle, demanding to know who. Proof he really did care about me.

"Someone put there hands on you, and I demand to know who."

"I did." His snaps around and I just know he is shoot flaming daggers at James.

"You put your hands on my sister." He says, his displeasure flowing as he stands up to face him, I quickly grab him and Watson steps between the two.

"Holmes, calm down. Listen to your sister before you murder someone." Watson says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock turns to me and I stand up, trying not to sway with the change in vertigo.

"Its fine brother, we had a little spat. I hurt him too." I lied, but hoping it will make him calm down,

"Why are here?"

"You're going to be an Uncle." I say with a smile. But he just blinks at me.

"Already?" now I blink at him.

"Dr. Watson," James speaks, before Sherlock went off saying why it was odd. "She fainted this morning, she has been dizzy almost all day, and hasn't eaten without throwing it back up in the longest time. I may just be a worry wart, but I'm concerned for her health and the child's as well."

"Okay, let's go have a look and see what's going on." Watson says as he pries me from my brother and leads me into his rooms just as Constable Clark walks up the steps towards my brother, a worried look on his face.

Watson had just finished the examination when the door suddenly opened and bounced off the wall, scaring me to death. "Watson, you can't tell if a man is dead or not!" my brother says, pointing an accusing finger at Watson's chest.

"What are you talking about? And you just can't come barging in here whenever you please, I am with a patient." He adds, sounding extremely annoyed.

"It's my sister, I've seen it all. As to what I am talking about, Clarky!"

"Yes Mr. Holmes?" his voice sounds from the hallway.

"Tell Watson what you told me!" my brother yells back.

"It appears that Lord Blackwood has come back from the grave sir. Inspector Lestrade insists I bring you at once."

"Very clever." States Watson. "I pronounced the man dead myself." He pulls the stethoscope from his neck and sets it on his table.

"What are the facts?" asks my brother.

"Groundskeeper claims he saw him walking through the graveyard just this morning, sir." And with that, Watson stands from his chair. "I'll leave this in your capable hands Holmes. Gatsby, come by tomorrow at noon, and I'll tell you the results of the blood test. Until then, Professor, have her eat one cracker every half hour, and small sips of water." He helps me stand up. "I have an appointment with Mary." He walks towards where his walking stick leans against a table.

"It's not my reputation that's at stake here." Adds Sherlock.

"Don't try that." Watson says, pointing a finger at both of us. Sherlock yells back to Clark.

"Have the newspapers got wind of it yet?"

"Well that's what were trying to avoid, sir."

"Certainly. What are the major concerns?"

"Panic. Sheer bloody panic, sir."

"Indeed."

"You're not taking this seriously are you, Holmes?" asks Watson. I look towards the door where he is now leaning against the table with his hat on his head.

"Yes. As you should." he says, looking pointedly at him, to which Watson just stutters unbelievingly. "It's a matter of professional integrity." Sherlock proclaims as he stands up. "No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not." That did it. I think with a smile as Watson shakes his head, obviously trying to mentally talk himself out of going.

"Okay, James. Let's go home, my brother just guilted Watson into doing something, that always puts him in a mood. Plus I am very tired." I say as he gently holds my arm and starts leading me out the door, but Sherlock stops us at the door, his eyes cold as he looks at my husband.

"If you leave another mark on my sister, you will not be leaving these rooms." His mouth twitched up in a smile, then he let us pass.

* * *

**James" PoV**

I helped my wife get in the house, she tried to walk to the sitting room. "No, no dear, you are going to bed."

"James, I have been in bed all day." She protests, gripping the banister as I try to steer her up the steps.

"I am aware of that, but until the Doctor assures me that you are in no danger, I want you in bed. I'll let you go up on your own, but you must go to bed." She sighs and nods, knowing she is not going to win this argument. "Good girl, I'll bring you some crackers and water. One every half hour." I watched her ascend the steps before I fetched her stuff.


	3. Three: Slowly Unfolding

New Chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I just figured out I didn't have one, so here it is. I do not own anything related to the Sherlock Holmes universe. No, this amazing piece of literature belongs to the amazing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (even though he tried to kill Sherlock!) The only thing that is mine is Gatsby.

**Very special thanks to: **Kstar101, Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape, and TheGoldenHairedMockingjay for the wonderful reviews!

**Special thanks to: **Elyon Cedar, Kstar101, and Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape, Artemis' hunters, and TheGoldenHairedMockingjay for favoriteing the story.

**Note:** Hello! So, I don't think I have mentioned this before, so I am going to. I don't have this story written at all. This was kind of an idea that popped into my head one night and I decided to write and chapter and see what happened. So I'm making it all up on the spot. I try to go no longer than a week without updating, but sometimes I cant get it out on time, but I try my hardest.

I love all my readers and I thank you for the continued support and patience with me as I try to do this amazing series the justice it deserves!

**Sorry for the shortness, but I'm working on the next chapter and it's a long one.**

**Read and Enjoy!**

Later That Night

Gatsby's PoV

"Darling?" I look up from my book and face James. "I have to go out for a few hours, drinks with my old chaps from my boxing days. Will you be alright here?" he asked, leaning through the door, his hat loosely gripped in his right hand.

"Yes James, I'll be fine, go out, have a good time. Just be safe." He walks into the room and kisses the top of my head.

"I always am. Here," he hands me another cracker. "eat this. And I'll have Susan bring the others up to you; I'm having her stay till I get back."

"Why?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you. Now, you behave while I'm gone and I'll see you tonight." He squeezes my hand and leaves the room. I smile as I hear the carriage drive off.

I toss the ungodly amount of blankets he had piled on me off and stood from the bed. I ate my cracker and went downstairs. I didn't even make it to the sitting room when I heard Susan's voice. "Oh, ma'am, what are you doing out of bed? Mr. Moriarty told me to,-"

"I'll deal with my husband Susan, don't fret. I'm not running a marathon, I am simply going to sit by the fire and read." I say as I pat the fretting woman on the back and go to the sitting room.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Gatsby, but the sir told me that if you got out of bed I was to tell him when he returns."

"Susan, I just said don't worry. I'm not going to tell, and I have a feeling you won't either, considering I am now giving you the night off."

"But-,"

"Go home Susan, it's getting late." I insisted, as I sat on the love seat and poked at the fire to build it back up.

"Yes ma'am, see you tomorrow." I sighed in relief when she also left. I was only two months along and they were already driving me crazy, how was I going to put up with this for seven more months?

A few hours later I hear a knock at the door. I set my book down and make my way towards the door, wondering who I could be. James wouldn't be back so soon, and he wouldn't knock. Sherlock wouldn't either, Watson might, but I know he wouldn't be here; Mycroft was at his house now, eating a late dinner. So I had no idea who I was, until I opened the door and saw Clarky on my door step. "Evening Mrs. Gatsby." He says when I open the door.

"Good evening Mr. Clark, what brings you're here, and at such a late hour?"

"I regret to inform you that your brother and Dr. Watson are both being held at the Yard ma'am."

"Whatever for this time?" I ask, my mind wondering what it was.

"Destruction of public property ma'am."

"Oh very well, what time I can post their bail?"

"I have already alerted Ms. Mary about the Doctor, and Mr. Mycroft Holmes of Sherlock, but I figured you would like to know."

"Did Mycroft say he was going to post it or do I need too?"

"Gatsby, what are you doing up?" I hear a voice sound to the left of where I am standing.

"I had to answer the door James, anyways, Mr. Clark?"

"Mr. Holmes said he would."

"Okay, thank you Clarky, have a good evening." I say with a smile, he lowers his head, shakes James' hand and walks back down the street. I turn to James with a smile, but it disappears immediately once I see his face.

"Inside, now." He says his voice cold. I obey without question.

I stand by the steps and wait as James shuts and locks the door before he hangs his hat and coat up then turns to look at me. "What did I tell you before I left?"

"But James, I just went to the-,"

"What did I tell you before I left?" he asks again, the look he gives me causes me to lower my gaze to the floor.

"To stay in bed."

"Thank you." he says as he moves closer to me and I cringe when I fell his hand jerk my chin up with more force than necessary. "But yet, I come home and I find you, not only out of bed, but standing outside in the night air. Do you not want to carry to full term?"

"What! James, that's crazy talk, of course I do-,"

"Well you sure have a funny way of showing that you do." I releases my chin and takes a few steps away from me, before he quickly turns his gaze back on me. "I suppose that if I look around I will find of try of cracker crumbs. Because you care so much that you're following, not only my orders, but those of Dr. Watson?" I lower my gaze again.

"I'm sorry."

"Words mean little to me. Actions are by far the better character builder." He stalks closer to me than before and I gasp as his hand fists in my hair at the base of my neck and he forces me to look at him. I feel a tear slid down my cheek. "This is your last chance my dear. You will do everything I tell you too, or the consequences will be far greater than you can imagine. Do I make myself clear?" I nod very fast and try to blink away my tears.

At my nod he releases his hold on my hair and starts massaging the sore skin. His other hand is sprayed on my belly. "I love you Gatsby, and I love this life we created together. I will do anything I can to keep you all safe." I nod some more and left out a small squeak as he leans in and kisses the track left from my tears. "It's been a long night. You go on up and I'll bring you your crackers for the night." he says as he lets go of me all together and I turn quickly and move up the stairs as fast as I was able to.

I run to the bathroom and shut the door and bolt it quickly. I lean against the wall and fight the urge to fall apart right there. I press my hand hard over my mouth and breathe in and out from my nose, trying to calm down. Where was this all coming from? I felt my stomach churn and I placed another hand over it. It was this things fault. Everything was fine until we got the news of its existence. But that was ridicules. We had discussed having children before we were even engaged. We had both wanted them, and we were both happy when we found out. But now, all I wanted was for it all to stop. We had known for less than a month and I already wanted them here. Maybe then, James would go back to normal. I slid down the wall to the floor just as the tears fell from my eyes.

James' PoV

I look up with a smile as I hear a door, from the sound of it, the bathroom door, slam shut. She must be trying to regain her composure. She needs to be frightened. That's the only way I can get close to Holmes. If Gatsby fears me, she will not speak out against me. Fear truly was one of the best weapons around. I stack 22 crackers on a plate, fill a pitcher full of water, and grab a small glass before placing them all on a large tray and making my way up the stairs. I open the bedroom door and when I set the tray down I can hear her cried through the door. I sigh before going over to my nightstand and pulling out the skeleton key and go over to the bathroom.

I turn the knob and open the door, I see Gatsby kneeling on the floor, her elbow digging into her knees from the pressure of her head against her hands. I kneel down beside her and wrap and arm around her, pulling her against me, taking her weight off her knees. I press a kiss to her hair and let her salty tears wet my shirt. "You need to breath, my dear." I say softly as I hear her sobs catching in her throat. She nods and tries to do as I say. I take her hand and place it over my abdomen. "Do as I do." I say, taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out. It takes a few tries, but she eventually follows and calms down. "I'm sorry I got out of bed, James. I won't do it again." She says quietly, she voice muffled.

"Gatsby, I do not want you to be a prisoner, but for now, until we figure out what is causing your fainting spells, I would rather you be safe. Susan would not be able to help you back to bed, and what if you collapse on the stairs?" she just nods. "It'll be okay, all this will be worth it in the end. I promise." Another nod and I stand up, gently pulling her up with me.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and helped her back to the bedroom. I had her sit on the bed as I pulled her nightdress from the back of the closet door. I brought it over and sat it on the bed. I helped her change then pulled the covers over her as I changed for bed myself. Lying down beside her I smiled when I felt her snuggle close to my side. My plan for her and our marriage was slowly unfolding. During our engagement when we fought she would either sleep in the guest bed or far away from me on her side of the bed, getting huffy if even our feet met in the dark. But now, she was apologizing to me, she was the one coming to me in the dark. I was sitting up and I had to have her eat before she fell asleep. "Gatsby, you need a cracker and some water before you fall asleep, can you do that for me?" another nod, and I take a cracker and gently press it too her lips. I cant help but smile when she takes a few bites from it. About half way through I take it away and press the cup of water to her lips, and after a few drinks, return the cracker to her. She playfully nips my fingers on the last bite. She giggles when I press my finger against her nose. "Drink the rest of the water." I say, and shake my head when she tries to down in all in a single gulp, and ends up choking a bit. I pat her back as she coughs a little.

"I did all you asked, so can I sleep now?" she asks, a little too much sweetness in her voice.

"We both know that is not all you wish to do." I saw as I kiss her nose.


	4. Four: Into a Nightmare

New Chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to the Sherlock Holmes universe. No, this amazing piece of literature belongs to the amazing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (even though he tried to kill Sherlock!) The only thing that is mine is Gatsby.

**Very special thanks to: **Kstar101 and Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape for the wonderful reviews! I really look forward to them, and they keep me motivated!

**Special thanks to: **Elyon Cedar, Kstar101, Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape, Artemis' hunters, and TheGoldenHairedMockingjay for favoriteing the story.

**Note:** Hello! I decided to do a massive time jump over the first movie to the second one. Writing the first movie was very dull for me considering all I was doing was giving information. BORING! So now, we are at the second movie! Enjoy!

**Read, Review, and Enjoy!**

James' PoV

The following morning I was surprised to find Gatsby awake before I was. I rolled to my side and saw her nibbling on a cracker and reading a book. "I do hope you didn't go down and get that." I say, making her jump a little.

"No, Susan was in the hall and I asked her to bring it. I didn't know how long you would sleep and I was bored." She says, marking her place and closing the cover.

"Just making sure. I have no classes today, so I didn't have to be up at any particular time."

"Could we go see my brother today? He doesn't know about the baby." She asked, her demeanor was very anxious. It was very obvious she did not want to be stuck in the house all day.

"Certainly my dear, I shall send him a wire, then we shall eat and await his reply." I say as I get out of bed.

It was a short ride to my eldest brother's house, but he was not overly pleased to have us, he was not overly found of visitors. "I must say Gatsby, you have been dropping by with news more often this past year." He says, leading us to the sitting room.

"Well brother, I figured you would like to know-,"

"That I shall have to work another name into the distribution of the Holmes' fortune, yes. Sherly told me day before last. Congratulations, dear sister, you will make a fine mother. If the years of dealing with Sherly are any proof of your patience."

"Why does he have to spoil all my good news." I say as I slouch against the soft cushions. "He always does you know."

"I can only recall three, your first suitor, your job, and your engagement."

"Plus all the stuff from when I was little."

"That has always been his nature. He told mother and father of my university acceptance before I could. It happens." He said dismissively, before turning his attention to James. "So, Professor, how are this years new boxers coming?" and I tuned out from there.

* * *

6 Months Later

Gatsby's PoV

"Just one more month Gatsby." Watson says as he pulls me to a sitting position and I lower my skirts.

"Cant I just do some crunches and get this over with?" I ask, sounding very pathetic and worn down. Watson just chuckled and patted my back. "You do know I'm going to be able to stand at your wedding right?"

"You may not even be able to attend at all my dear, the wedding is in three weeks, you could have your babies by then." He says as he sits in his chair across from me. "Have you and James picked out any names yet?"

"Mycroft and Sherlock if they are boys-,"

"Really?" he says, his face showing all forms of dislike.

"No, Alice and Sara if we have girls, Gabriel and Alexander if we have boys."

"What if its one of each?"

"He flips a coin for the girl and the boy will be Gabriel no matter what."

"Strong names. What does Holmes think about them?"

"I haven't seen him since we decided on the names. Every time I go to Baker Street he's never there. Why, I dropped by this morning and all I saw as a bald foreign man walking down the lane. I really have no idea where he has been."

"All the bombings have him wondering all over London."

"I thought they were all terrorist action?"

"Do we all, but of course he has a different idea."

"Of course. Do you know what it is?"

"No, I haven't been to Baker Street in the longest time. He's probably hurt over that."

"He's okay, he's been to busy anyway. Well, I'm gonna go, I want to go to auction today, see if I can find a nice painting for the nursery." I say as I stand, Watson stands and gives me a tiny hug.

"You be careful, and not too much walking, understand?"

"Yes, mother. Bye Watson."

I walk out the doors of Watson's new home, grateful that I don't have to speak with his future wife; I never was overly fond of her. I decided to walk since James was not around me to hover, and I would surprise him with a new painting I was going to get today, one way or another. So down the street I went. Several blocks later I heard some people whistling a slow version of Eine kleine Nachtmusik by Mozart. I always did love that song, Sherlock was not very found of it either, even though he could whistle almost the whole thing. I walked by the ally and continued on my way. But then, I was about half a block from the front of Cromwell and Griff Auctioneers' when I see Irene Adler walk though the doors. I shrug and walk in. I get my seat just as they bring out an old Egyptian sarcophagus. I look at the collection and I see the painting I was going to walk out of here with.

The bidding on that sarcophagus was taking forever- "One million pounds!" I turn around and see the all too familiar face of my big brother.

"Sherlock?" I question, wondering what on earth he was going to do with the thing.

"Oh, and by the way, fire." He said so calmly, I shook my head as I see Adler and some guy. My brother had interrupted some criminal act. I wasn't going to be getting my painting. When nobody moved from their seats, he screamed "Fire!" louder, that got everyone moving. I simply stood back and leaned against a wall. Watching the rest of my brothers antics unfold. I roll my eyes as he and the girl talk about this messing with dinner plans. Then she leaves and my brother grabs something from the older man and runs down the path between the chairs, all the while saying, "Trust me, this is what I do for a living." He then drops the box in the sarcophagus and pushes it across the stage. "Dr. Hofmannsthal, you should count yourself lucky. This faceless man with whom you find yourself in business with is no ordinary criminal. He's the napoleon of crime. Fortunately, you now have me as an ally. I'm a consulting detective of some repute." Sherlock disappears into the vault as the older man walks out the front door, my brother gabbing away. "Perhaps you have heard of me. My name is Sherlock H..." I stumble back as an explosion sounds from the vault. I move to run to him when I hear him cough several times before finishing his sentence. "H... Holmes." I shake my head as he emerges from the vault.

"I'm afraid he left about the time you were saying you were of some repute." I say as I walk over to him and dust the rubble off his shoulders.

"Gatsby, what are you doing here?"

"I was going to but that painting, but I guess fate had other plans." He snorts.

"Fate indeed. I shall accompany you outside." He says as he wraps an arm around mine and we walk out the building. He gently led me through the crowd and we had just passed by the majority of it when he abruptly stopped his steps and turned around, his gaze wide and alert. "Sherly?" I ask, but he just resumes his steps and pulls me around the corner. "Wait here, I'll be back." And away he goes. I stood there for a few seconds, contemplating following him when a voice sounded in my ear. "Does the Professor know you are here?" I freeze and turn around.

"Moran, what are you doing here?"

"That is not your concern, but I know your husband would be very intrigued with you being here."

"I'm here with my brother-,"

"Yes, I saw. You better watch yourself." And I watched as he disappeared down the alley way. I felt my heart speed up the further he got away. I would be in hot water when I got home tonight. I nearly jump out of my skin when Sherlock places a hand on my shoulder.

"Easy on, let's go." He says as he pulls me close to him and he hurries me from the street.

He keeps me next to him until he pulls me through the front door of Baker Street. "Sherlock, can you please tell me what was going on back there?" he turns from the hat rank and he looks no more relaxed now than he did on the street. "Sherly, whatever it is I can see what it's doing to you. Please tell me." I say, taking a few steps close to my brother. He smiles and takes my hands, pressing them to his lips.

"Perhaps it is time, little sister. But I do not take joy in this." He helps me walk up the seventeen steps to his rooms, but he doesn't go through his doors, no, he leads me through Watson's old doors. I stop in the doorway and stare at the once spotless room, now covered in newspaper clippings and red string that connected them all together. "What is this?" I ask in wonder. Whatever he was working on was more complex for him than I had thought. The only time I had ever seem him use visual aid like this was when our parents had been murdered.

"This is my spider's web. All these threads will help me, the spider, catch the fly." He said, standing very firmly by the door.

"Who is the fly?" I ask, following a random string that was over my left shoulder.

"Just keep following that one." He said, so I kept my fingers around it, sliding down the string until it connected with a dozen others, attached to an old photo of my husband.

I stood frozen, my eyes glued on the photo. I felt cold, as if my insides were ice. "No." I breath out, panic building just under the surface of my control.

"Gatsby, I know-," I spun around and locked eyes with my brother.

"No, no, no, no! This cant be right, this-," I look around the room before grabbing a handful of the strings and pulling them down. "You're wrong!" I scream before he pulls me into his arms. I wrap my arms around him and cry.

"You know as well as I what he is capable of. All the pieces are coming to together aren't they?" he asks, all I can do is nod. I did know that he was up to something, but I didn't think it would be something so big to lead to my brother loosing what was left of his sanity over.

"I'm sorry Gatsby." I nod and slowly regain my composure.

"I have to go." I say, pulling away from him.

"No!" he says, pulling me back to him. "I can keep you safe. You need to stay with me." I shake my head.

"You know he'll never let me go. I have to go back, who knows what he will do if I don't." he lowers his head, but I push it up a little so I can look into his eyes. "I'll be okay, he wont hurt me. Not while I'm carrying his children." My brother nods and presses a hand on my huge belly.

"Once they are born Gatsby, you have to promise me you'll get away." his eyes are so earnest, wide, and shiny. He is as nervous about the future as I was.

"I promise." He nods, gives me another hug and gently helps me back down the stairs and out the front door. I wipe a tear from my eye as I start the walk back home.

* * *

By the time I get to the front steps my feet are so swollen I have to sit down on the stoop. The feet keep throbbing, but less pain is there as my weight is taken off of them. I lean my head against the metal banister and close my eyes. I keep them closed even after I hear the door open. "Where have you been my dear?" I tense and open my eyes, my gaze falling on James' form.

"I had my check-up today, I told you that." He steps out of the house and grips my wrist, hauling me to my sore feet and dragging me through the door. I move to the stairs inside and lean against the wall. "I am aware you were at Dr. Watson's, but I am referring to after, when my friend spotted you and your brother by Cromwell and Griff Auction."

"I wanted to get a painting for the nursery."

"Are you couldn't find a seconds to wonder if I wanted you there or not?"

"I didn't think it would be a big deal, I didn't even know Sherlock was there until he bid a million pounds on a sarcophagus!" I raise my voice, but regret it as he steps menacingly close to me, his muscular abdomen hard and unyielding against my engorged middle.

"This is not about your meddling brother. This is about you disobeying me. I told you to stay away from him, and not to go anywhere with out me." I nod, laying a hand over my babies. He steps back and has a personality flip and gently grasps my hand. "What did the Doctor say about our little ones?" he asks, as he gently pulls me though the house to the sitting room.

"He says that they could come whenever they feel like it." With that sentence alone I remember why I fell in love with him. He smiles and presses a kiss to my lips, when he lays his hand on my stomach. "Hello in there, I cant wait to meet you both." I close my eyes and enjoy the niceness of this situation, knowing that at any moment, it could turn into a nightmare.

* * *

Later That Night

My eyes open at a pain that stabs at my insides. I cringe, but then it seems it was gone before I could do anything about it. I shrug and snuggle back into my pillows, and I'm almost asleep when another one shoots through my body. This one more painful and I cry out and grip my belly. My cry has James up and alert. "Gatsby, whatever is the matter?" he asks, illuminating the lamp at the bedside.

"I don't know, there's pain." He's up and kneeling in front of me.

"How long dear?" he asks, pressing his hand gently over mine.

"I don't know; I just woke up a few minutes ago. Do you think it's time?" I ask, nervousness rising up in my throat at all the things this is going to mean.

"I'm not sure, I'll go and get Dr. Watson, you stay here." He helps me lay back in bed, then he stands, pulls on his winter coat over his bedclothes and goes out the door. A few seconds later, Susan arrives at my room.

"Ma'am, would you like me to fetch you something?"

"Yes, go to Baker Street and get Sherlock, then go to Lexon, and get Mycroft. Please." I say, trying not to freak out. My promise to Sherlock ringing in my ear.


	5. Five: Promises Kept

**FINALLY: **New Chapter! I am SOOO sorry for this horrible wait and short chapter. The internet at my house had a major meltdown, and the company I go through I think is ran by apes because it took them forever to find out what the problem was, after they canceled the maintenance man four times, and got lost about three times on the way to my house. I have about four **long** chapters already written and I will post them in due haste as soon as I edit them.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to the Sherlock Holmes universe. No, this amazing piece of literature belongs to the amazing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (even though he tried to kill Sherlock!) The only thing that is mine is Gatsby.

**Very special thanks to: **Kstar101 and Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape for the wonderful reviews! I really really LOVE them!

**Special thanks to: **All who read, follow, favorite, and enjoy this story!

**Read and Enjoy!**

Sherlock's PoV

The moment the maid from my sister's house left the door I quickly took out the back in search for the irregulars, and quickly spotting one. "Robert!" I holler in his direction, he runs over to me.

"Mr. Holmes, sir?"

"Please go to my brother's home and tell him to come here before he goes to the Professor's. He will know what I mean, and find one of your counter parts and send him my way as soon as you find one." I slip a few coins in the boys hands as he runs off I go back inside, quickly changing from my old house coat and into a new shirt. I get to the steps when a knock at the door signals the arrival of the second boy. I open the door and see Oliver and his older brother Matthew. Matthew does all the talking as usual. "Mr. Holmes?"

"Go to Dr. Watson's and tell him that you have found me unconscious in the doorway." The give me a very odd look, but when I slip double coins in their hands, they quickly scurry off.

I then set to pacing around the room; I have nothing to do until they show up. Labor would possibly take hours, if she even was in labor, we would have time to get her from their house to a safe house, far away from the grasp of that madman. My little sister, the one I had protected from bullies and boys all through her life, and if I couldn't save her from the most dangerous man of all, I don't know what I would do. Another knock at the door startled me from my thoughts. I open the door and see Mycroft at the door. "What in the world do you need, Sherly?" he asks, stepping in the house, a typical air of calm and indifference.

"When are you going to be at the summer home again?" I ask, gesturing to a seat.

"In the summer, when I usually go." He said, showing no concern for me asking what was honestly, a stupid question.

"Are there any staff still on there?" I honestly didn't know that. Mycroft, being the eldest, was in charge of seeing over the property left to us when our parents passed.

"No, I don't keep them on when no one is there. What is this all about?"

"Gatsby, I need to get her away from Moriarty."

"Are you really going to go along with the plan now? She's having twins, Sherly. It is not safe to move her that far. Especially now, she may be in labor."

"That is where Watson comes in. If he ever shows up that is." I say, shooting glances at the door.

Gatsby's PoV

The pains I was feeling were slowly subsiding the more time passed. Susan had been back for about ten minutes, and James about fifteen. James hadn't left my side since his return. He was loving and sweet. Each time I felt a pain he would hold my hand, he rubbed my back and kept the water I drank and the rag he wiped my head with cold. I laid my head back as another cramp came, less painful than the one before. I supposed I was in false labor, and if this was false, I wasn't looking forward to the actual labor. Where were my brothers and Watson? Watson should have shown up with James, but James said Watson had been caught by a small boy and his brother about a man in need to medical help. But that didn't explain where my brothers were.

"Darling, maybe you should rest. If this is true labor, we have a long road ahead of us." James says, rubbing the rag gently across my forehead.

"I know, but I don't think I can sleep until I know if this is it or not." He nods and presses a kiss to my cheek. A knock at the door pulls us apart and he steps into the hall, and by the voices I can hear both Watson and Mycroft. I close my eyes in sadness, Sherlock wasn't here. I open my eyes when I hear the door open and I smile when I see Mycroft. He walks around the bed and holds my hand.

"Dear sister." He is soon shooed from the room, leaving me and Watson.

"The middle of the night Gatsby, figured. You and your brother are so much alike. Let's see what's going on." He says as he digs in his medical bag. "How are the pains?"

"I think its false labor now; they do not hurt as much as they did."

"That is good." He steps over to me and drops down to his knees. His stethoscope in his ears, he places the end on my heart, but he locks his gaze with me. "I am going to make it seem like you are in labor and that there is something wrong with the babies." He says, I feel confusion fall over my mind.

"What? Why?"

"Sherlock is in the carriage downstairs. We have to get you out of here, it is no longer safe."

"But what about you? If you get me to a carriage and then we don't show up-,"

"Shhh." He says as he presses a finger to his lips. "Holmes has it all figured out. Apparently he has had this plan in mind for months. Just do as I say, if we can't get you out this way, Holmes is prepared to take you by force."

"What do I have to do?"

"Just follow my lead, you'll be okay." He gives me a very small smile and I swallow nervously and lay my head back.

Watson went about making it seem like he was setting up for the delivery. If he hadn't spoken to me, I would think this was really happening. I tensed up when I heard a knock on the door. Watson locked eyes with me and mouthed, "Act in pain." I nodded and let out what I hoped sounded like a moan of pain and not the sound of a cat in heat as Watson walked over to the door. "Yes Professor?" he asked.

"Is she in labor, Doctor?" James' voice sounding in the room forced a moan to catch in my throat. "Is she in pain?" he asked, but he had heard the real thing.

"It looks like she is indeed in labor, since she is having twins there is a chance of this becoming complicated and possible hard could befall her or the babies. Do you wish to remain here unless it is necessary to go to the hospital, or do you wish to just go there now for a precaution?" Watson asked, his doctor voice causing me to shake on the bed. But he was being smart. James cared about these babies. I think that if anything happened to them I would be in major trouble, and he would probably make sure I became pregnant again. James wouldn't take the risk with the twins' lives. I knew what he would choose before he even said it.

"I want to take every precaution with my wife and children's health, Dr. Watson. How do we proceed to get her there?"

"I will take her in the hansom I have waiting for me, you can follow. She needs to stay flat so the labor doesn't speed up and cause problems."

"You have one outside?"

"False labor is very common at her stage; I didn't want to risk not having a ride back home."

"I see, I shall pack a bag for her after I get her to the hansom." James says as he pushes past the door. I shake and try to contort my face in pain more than fear. He leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. "We're going to be parents before the morrow my dear." He has a huge smile on his face. I just nod and try not to shake as he gently pulls me into his arms and we follow Watson down the steps.

Watson climbs in first and they work together to get me into the hansom and laid on the seat, I try not to look around, but I wonder where my brother is. "Darling, is everything okay?" James asks, placing a cool, calloused palm against my face. I give a small smile and nod.

"I'm very nervous." I say, my voice small and wary.

"Don't be, you'll be fine." He leans in again and places a kiss against my lips before pulling back. "I'll see you at the hospital." Then he shuts the door. I lay perfectly stone still until I see something move to the right of Watson, and I sit up and smile as my brother takes off his black mask and sends a small smile my way.

"Told you I would get you out." He says smugly.

"Actually, I think it was Watson who got me out. Where are we going?"

"You are going to the summer home, Watson and I must return to our regular lives. It will be like you vanished. For right now, that is the best thing for you." Sherlock says. I drop my gaze and nod my head. I feel the hansom shift as he switches seats and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I lean against him as he presses a kiss to my brow and places a hand on my fluttering belly.


	6. Six: Moving the Pieces

**New Chapter: **This was longer, but I decided to move the break point. The next chapter will be up soon. Not much action, just getting them there.

**Note: **There are no given names of Sherlock's parents, so I made them up, but Sherwood was Conan Doyle's original name for Sherlock Holmes. All the Holmes' family history I made up.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to the Sherlock Holmes universe. No, this amazing piece of literature belongs to the amazing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (even though he tried to kill Sherlock!) The only thing that is mine is Gatsby.

**Very special thanks to: **Kstar101 and Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape for the reviews! I again apologize for the wait and shortness of the last chapter.

**Special thanks to: **All who read, follow, favorite, and enjoy this story!

**Read and Enjoy!**

Gatsby's PoV

The rest of the trip was a blur. My mind was blank, but I couldn't get my hands to stop shaking. Sherlock kept a close gaze and a soft grip on me the whole way there. I knew the further away from London we got; the closer James was to discovering the deception. He would not be happy. I don't know what he would do, and I was relived when I was told Mrs. Hudson was visiting family and Watson's fiancée was with a friend. I didn't think he would hurt anyone, but then, I didn't think James was a madman either. I felt like my life the past two years was a lie.

I first met James while I was working in the college library. I was on a ladder putting a book on the top shelf and I fell, literally, into his arms. Since he saved my life, I took him for tea, which turned into lunch, then several dinners. I loved him, even now I loved him.

"Are you cold, Gatsby?" Sherlock's voice cuts through the stillness of the hansom. I turn and see his face, one side shrouded in darkness, the other illuminated by the moonlight. I knew his eyes were full of concern and face drawn in a firm line.

"I'm alright, I promise."

"You haven't stopped shaking since we left. It'll be okay, Gatsby. I won't let him hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about." I say, my voice catching a bit in my throat. "I'm worried about you. I don't want him to hurt you. Or Watson." I look down and he sighs. He doesn't know what to say. He never has. When I was six and my best friend and her family were moving away from London I was devastated, and all Sherlock did was tell me about a bug that was in high population where they were moving too.

I sucked in a breath and looked back out the window. We were getting very close to the cottage now. I didn't know what would be there. I didn't think Mycroft kept the staff on hand year round, and I frankly didn't want them there. But I knew someone would be there, probably not the whole staff, but someone. I wondered what they would do for a doctor of me. Watson had been mine from the start of this whole thing, and he very well couldn't make a trip all the way to the cottage once a week. I close my eyes and lean my head against the leather of the hansom and breathe in the clear country air.

* * *

James' PoV

I do believe, if it were possible, smoke was coming out of my ears. I had sat at the hospital for over an hour before I accepted that they had taken her away. I never thought Mr. Holmes would do that, and I never thought my _wife_ would let them. The walk back to my house was long and uneventful, but I had to calm down before I got home.

The second I came to the conclusion that she was gone I had to fight every urge I had to go right over to Baker Street and stab the man in the heart. But where would be the logic, or fun, in doing that? This Gatsby business aside, I have a substantial amount of respect for Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He had been able to solve the cases that confounded the yard. He had even interfered with a number of my operations. I know how he got on my trail, the Adler woman, but I am not sure how he was able to figure so much of it out. I had built my empire very slowly and carefully. Months, even years passing between each kill and buyout. But yet, he had caught on, and had ruined some of my plans that had been in motion for weeks.

I knew marrying Gatsby was a risk, but one cannot defy what the heart wants, and mine had wanted her. From the moment I was walking about the library looking for a book and I bumped into a wooden ladder and a small, light body landed in my arms, my heart wanted her. Next to my wedding day, the day we learned she was expecting was the happiest day of my life. Gatsby was intelligent, not as much as her siblings perhaps, and beautiful. Our children would be mentally and physically beautiful. Gatsby would be a wonderful mother. I would be damned if I wasn't going to be a father for my children. I knew Gatsby had little time left before she had our children. And it shouldn't take me too long to find her.

The brother's wouldn't take her to either of their homes, they were to smart for that. But I would be able to get possible information about where she could be. Dr. Watson had been her doctor from the start, I would keep him watched, even though I doubted that he would go to and from where she was once a week, sort of a give away. So they would have to either hire a physician or use a local one. Mycroft would be in charge of that, he still had control of Gatsby's share of the Holmes' estate. Getting into his house wouldn't be a problem, but getting to the files would be. There would be no clues at Baker Street.

I ran over every detail I knew about the family in my head. The parents were deceased and have been for years, Mycroft worked for the government. Maybe my connections with the Prime Minister could help me get more from the elder man. Mycroft also lived alone, minus the few elderly staff he kept on at his house. He lived at the club and had a set routine. I doubt the man was in on the actual moving of my wife, but he knew. I didn't know much about the financial state of the family, Mycroft was in charge of all that, and he kept it quiet, but I doubt that there was any trouble with it. I knew all there was to know about Sherlock without doing what Dr. Watson had done.

The doctor, he had no idea how deep of a hole he was in, and a hole he kept digging. He was already on my radar for his association with Mr. Holmes. But I couldn't dispose of him till my children were here. That was partly the reason I disposed of Ms. Adler. But now, the Doctor was no longer keeping watch over my wife, and he himself was getting a new wife. What a way to get a message trough to the man who was becoming a constant thorn in my side. But we would have to have a little meeting first. An official man to man, enemy to enemy meeting. Not the friendly meetings we had in the past.

The steps of my house came into view just about the time I smile slid over my face. I would find my wife, dispose of the Doctor, and have my children. After I had them, I didn't need the trouble Gatsby was bringing me. My heart may want her, but my brain does not. My brain was a much more valuable tool than my heart. With the Doctor gone, Mr. Holmes would be out for blood, but with his sister gone, he would be devastated. The bond between my wife and he was very strong and odd. Mr. Holmes was logic, pure logic, it wasn't in him to love or feel affection, yet he felt all with my wife, his little sister. Killing Mycroft would hurt him yes, but Mycroft was better to me alive. I know what seeing him everyday would do to Mr. Holmes. Seeing the brother that couldn't keep the sister safe. It would be madding. That's how I wanted, needed to see Sherlock Holmes. Mad. His mind lost on the sea of despair and agony I would create. I would be the end of him. I would remove the thorn from my side, and cast it into oblivion.

* * *

Watson's PoV

I watched them. I watched brother and sister from my stop across from them. Gatsby was worried and Holmes had no idea what to say to her. Neither did I, for that matter. I had been in some odd and depressing moments since I began my partnership with Holmes, I had seen him react when a case involved a small child or when a case went sour. But none of those times, rare though they were, never caused so many emotions, however brief, cross over his face. This situation with his sister, was hitting closer to home than even he was willing, or able, to admit.

In many ways, this was harder on Holmes than Gatsby. Gatsby got to hide from her problem, hide in the country with a personal physician and a kindly old maid. But Holmes had to return to Baker Street. Return to running all over London, getting into random brawls in alleys and disguising himself to keep an eye on whoever he was following. He would be returning to it alone. He was still not pleased with the fact I was getting married. Yes, he had come to terms with it, but it displeased him all the same. But now, I had a feeling it would get to him even more. My wedding was a few short breaths away, and then he would be in London totally alone. If only for a short while. Mary and I were honeymooning in Brighton for a week, but then I would have to return to my practice. I had dropped my number of patience during my move and wedding plans. But when we returned, I would have to take on more, a family would cost more than what I was used too. Living with Holmes we had two sources of income, but with Mary, the two of us would be depending on my income alone.

But those problems were for another time. Right now, the goal was to get Gatsby to the cottage and then for Holmes and myself to get home. I had never been to the Holmes' summer cottage. Holmes had never had the need to go, despite his brother's invitations and Watson's suggestions, so I curious to what it would look like. They were not an overly wealthy family, but Mycroft was gifted at saving more than he spent and he was in charge of the money. It would be very secluded, or else Holmes would have dismissed the idea right away. The country would be good for Gatsby, she loved nature, and the clean air would be good first breathes for her babies. I do hope both of them are born healthy, I dread to think what she would do if she lost one or both of them, considering all she has had to endure, it would be very unfair for all her suffering to be for naught.

I would have to give this new doctor her medical record. The doctor would have to keep a close eye on her food and liquid intake, as well as her fainting spells and low blood pressure. I had a sickening feeling the birth was not going to be an easy one. But even complicated births can have happy endings. But only time would tell what was to become of her and her children. I know Holmes would stop at nothing to guarantee her safety, but she would have children and no father in the picture. Her situation would not be believed and she would be seen as a loose woman instead of a victim of mental abuse. Holmes wouldn't be able to protect her from everything.

I do not know too much of the Professor besides common knowledge and my limited impersonal interactions with the man. At face vale he seemed like a decent enough fellow, but Holmes accusations and the cloud of fear and paranoia that hovered about Gatsby seemed to prove otherwise. If this man really was as dangerous as Holmes was suspecting and as mad as I was guessing, there was a very long and hard road ahead. I was fortunate that I was no longer assisting Holmes on his cases. I was out of the picture, so he the Professor had any sick things in mind, I would not have to worry about them. I was content to be the naive, everyday citizen of London, sitting in my sitting room reading the newspapers and believing all I read. Even though I knew, deep down, I would miss the life I had with Holmes.

* * *

Sherlock's PoV

The tiny cottage came into view. It was later in the night that I had originally intended to arrive here. We would stay the night and depart back for London in the morning. The poor driver and horse would need to rest before we made the long journey back to the city. The cottage was small, it was a wedding gift from my great-grandfather to his wife, and so it was passed down, generation to generation, to end up with Mycroft, who would probably leave it to our sister since she is the only one who is going to have a child. I certainly wasn't and I doubt Mycroft ever would. He was not one for it either.

As the hansom drew to a stop outside the house Gatsby was the first one out. She stood in the middle of the yard and stretched out her cramped muscles and breathed in the _clean_ air. I never found the air very clean here either. In London, the smell wasn't so terrible, but out here, the air reeked with dead animals and excrement from the woods. But my sister liked it out here, so I let her breath in the horrid smell all she wanted. I knew Moriarty did not know we had this place, but there was a possibility that he would find out. The Doctor was an acquaintance of mine I had roomed with in university. He was well renowned in Lekberg and was more than willing to get a paid vacation from the place. He would be her physician and bodyguard. There would be one stable hand that would be in charge of readying a carriage should they need to make a quick getaway, as well as a single young maid, the only employee under the age of thirty that Mycroft would hire. He disliked having someone young work as a maid when there were possibly better things for that person to be doing with their life. I was of the opinion that if a person wanted to be a maid, let them be a maid.

Myself and Watson followed my sister and as Watson joined my sister I walked to the drive. "There is a stable and a hand waiting for you around the side. Just leave your hansom and steed with him then go inside, a woman will take you to your room." I say as I hand him a hearty amount of coins and walk over to the ones in the yard. "It's been so long since I've been her, Sherlock." Gatsby proclaims with more joy in her voice than I had heard in a long time. "I wish I wouldn't have waited so long."

"If you would have went for your honeymoon, like you were considering, this place would no longer be safe." I say as I pull out my pipe and light it.

"I know that, but it feels so good to back." She says a smile on her face.

"I know you are enjoying yourself, but we must get you inside. I wish to check you over and then we have to talk to the doctor that is waiting for you." Watson says as he gently leads my sister into the semi-lit cottage. Mycroft had been swift in sending urgent telegrams to the people to be at the cottage and have it ready. Double pay for rush.

It had indeed been a long time since I was here. The last time was eight years ago. The last summer of my college years, we had all converged to drink to what would have been our parents' anniversary. A tradition that Gatsby had insisted on doing every ten years. It would have been our parents thirtieth had they still been alive. Sherwood and Olivia were my parents' names. My father was a very intelligent businessman, but his heart was too soft and he often gave the money made away too freely, resulting in us children to have very little to live off when they had died. Mother, on the other hand, was the kindest woman I had ever known. She was filled with love, and she cherished my father, even with his evident short-comings. She kept the peace between Mycroft and I very well. But I, being the youngest, always got by with more than he could ever dream. There were seven years between myself and my brother, I knew the time between his birth and mine were littered with false pregnancies and miscarriages, I recall two between the time I was three and Gatsby's birth. I also knew, from looking at family records, there had been a son born to my parents before Mycroft named Ackerley. He died three days before Mycroft had been born from influenza. His death sending my mother into early labor and almost killing her in the process.

As these thoughts flew past my constantly buzzing mind the probability of Gatsby having trouble with her birth appeared at the front of my mind. With all that was already going on, my sister did not deserve to have a hard time with the birth, and she sure didn't need the risk of loosing them either. Dr. Alex Postlan better keep a very close eye on my sister indeed. I promised her I would keep her safe and I don't make promises I don't keep. I sucked on my pipe until I was content and then went inside the house. I didn't want the smell of the tobacco to linger in the air; Gatsby was rather sensitive to it these days.

* * *

Next Day

Gatsby's PoV

I was sitting on a couch in the sitting room watching as Watson gave my new doctor, Dr. Postlan, a test to make sure he knew all there was to know about my medical history, Sherlock was outside smoking. I didn't want to say goodbye to them, but I knew it had to be done. They had lives in London, lives that would be in jeopardy if they stayed away too long. I was annoyed that I wouldn't be there for Watson's marriage. Even though I was not overly found of the woman he was marrying, she made him happy, and that was all the mattered. That's why Sherlock wasn't giving him grief over it anymore.

The door closing made me look up and smile. Sherlock walked in and said it was time to go. Watson simply gave me a hug, he was at a loss of what to say and he didn't want to risk upsetting me. Sherlock hugged me and whispered his promise in my ear before; he too, turned from me and went out the door, leaving me alone in the small cottage with three virtual strangers and a homicidal husband on the loose.

Moriarty's PoV

The night had been long, the morning longer. I was in my office, my classes complete and I was thinking about the battlefield that lay before me. The elder brother had been home and had done his typical Tuesday routine of going out for breakfast, going to work, then going back home. But Baker Street had been empty all day, even the land-woman was absent. The same went for the Doctor's home. They would come back; there was no question of that in mind. The doctor for his wife and marriage and Mr. Holmes would return for me. My wife was now hidden from me. There was a chance I would be able to find her. I now had a maid in the elders home, and I was working on one for the Doctor, but I had a feeling he was a lost cause. He was no longer a part of my brother-in-laws antics, but he was not exempt from the punishment that would arise if Holmes tried to up-root me.

I had things that still had to be carried out. A gun business and that troublesome man of mine that insisted on sending something to his sister. Since I did not have the letter, no telling what she may know. I knew she was traveling across the land as a fortune-teller, a hunt for her bothersome brother. Holmes had the letter, so I had to get to her first. I would get to her first.


End file.
